


The Unenviable Passage of Time

by morethananythinginmylife



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:52:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morethananythinginmylife/pseuds/morethananythinginmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas frets over losing his hair. Guy-Manuel shows him why he should have nothing to fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unenviable Passage of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldandsilverdream](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=goldandsilverdream).



Thomas was staring in the bathroom mirror again. He wanted to run his hand through his hair one more time but common sense said not to. His shoulders fell as he examined his hair once more. His quickly drying curls had thinned with time, what was once a thick thatch of dark brown – or peroxide blonde that one time – now was bordering on a seemingly transparent sandy wisp. Every now and again he would fear washing his hair, the pain of watching more and more strands fall on the shower floor becoming unbearable. Wearing the helmet usually eased the pain, - the rigid, unchanging visage easing the knot in his chest – but that moment they would take them off, reality would sink in. Guy-Man would try to comfort him with a hand to his lower back but how could he understand? He still had the same cascade of brown hair he had when they were just kids. He leaned against the sink and sighed. Maybe to others it was merely a vanity, but it was important to him, a part of him. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Guy-Man had entered the room until he wrapped his arms around him. The smaller man pressed his face to his back, kissing his spine. He sank into his touch, the tension seeping out his bones as Guy-Man’s hands skimmed across his body, tugging at the towel around his waist until it fell to the floor. When he was completely relaxed, Guy-Man took him by the hand and turned him to the full-length mirror behind the door. He turned to Guy-Man, confused. He merely nodded to the mirror and stepped behind the taller man, the intention floating in the air.

_I want you to see what I see._

Guy-Man took Thomas’ hands in his own and guided them to his shoulders. Sliding down his chest through the thick hair there. Further down to the thin strip of hair beneath his belly button. Skimming over the trimmed hair of his crotch. Through the dusting of hair at the tops of his thighs. Their hands slowly rose again, following their journey in reverse. Up and down, up and down achingly slow. With each pass he noted Guy-Man’s fingers as they brushed through his body hair, as if his fingerprints were leaving kisses in their wake, reminders that he loved him, every last part. Eventually, Guy-Man is focused on his cock and soon Thomas is wordless as he cums, Guy-Man’s name on his lips. They stand there quiet and pleased.

“If it makes you feel any better, you have a seriously hairy ass.” Guy-Manuel laughed as Thomas chased him back into the bedroom where they lost the rest of the afternoon in bed.


End file.
